Mat lee packing up beats with the lights on

Packed tight my songs blowing like a pipe bomb

Right on, when I’m reaching for the feelings

Sitting comfortably between hell and the ceiling

Watching all the blades on the fan spin around

Never really all that good at finding out the middle ground

Living in a little town, and that’s how i like it

Delivering my sound hoping y’all find it

I love producing beats it's time consuming

Gives me something to do while my mind is stewing

Never had nothing to prove just my love for music

For anybody asking why i do this

It was never really about getting rich and famous

I just like the feeling of gеtting played on a playlist

Putting little piecеs of me out in the ether

Then see what comes back on the receiver

I get a little dizzy trying to follow the words around

Every time I close my eyes it’s like they’re bursting out

Give it ten minutes then let’s see who deserts the crown

And this motherfucker thinks that he deserves a crowd

My mind be all like yo who’s smirking now

I’m like shut up mind, mind your own business you worthless clown

And this shit goes on for like an hour

Another fucking dumb struggle for power

I try to ask around why the fuck it gotta be like that

It do what it do when it do it, it might be a trap

Skew what they view in their dreams when they need a nap

Follow through with the fake news getting knee slaps

Oh look we got another comedian

I smoke myself silly now I’m all out of weed again

Trying to tolerate 2020 like really

Could this shit get any more filthy